Revival of the Soul
by jiapryor
Summary: After Percy's untimely attempt at suicide, Zeus stumbles upon the hero's dying soul. Will be be able to overcome the barricade Percy has surrounded around his mind and heart? Can Zeus manage to overcome Poseidon's selfishness with his son? OOC. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**THIS IS NOT SLASH. This is OOC. **  
><strong>I own nothing except the plot.<strong>

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><p><strong>THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF MY ONE SHOT, <em>I'll Die to Save You<em>, so you might want to read that to understand what happened to Percy before reading this. I know that the concept of Zeus and Percy interacting is odd, and I want it to be that way.**

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><p><strong>Chapter One:<strong>

You rap on the door to his apartment. Your burly hands knock roughly against the door, feeling the wood crack and slightly sway on its most likely rusted hinges. You grow tired of your fruitless attempt at being courteous. He refuses to open the door, and so you know that you must force your way in.

Almost inconspicuously, you form a tiny sphere of tangible electricity in your hand, wrapping that same hand around the doorknob and uncaringly shoving the door open. There isn't a creaking noise like you expect. Instead, the door clangs heavily against the frightfully unattractive walls. You survey the living area of his apartment, and you're absolutely stunned. You're surprised that the appearance of the inside is much nicer than what's portrayed on the outside.

"Surely, I imagined that Perseus would be messier than this…" you mumble to yourself as you stare over the pristine countertops, spotless floor, and fluffy couches and chairs. You're surprised that you bothered to drudge up enough _care_ and willpower to teleport yourself to the hero of Olympus's grungy apartment in upper Manhattan.

You smirk to yourself when you come upon a closet door closed with bits and pieces of what's seemingly metal peeking out through the crack at the bottom, but you know better than that. It's celestial bronze. Your hand twists the knob curiously, wanting to see what other weapons young Perseus has other than his shield and faithful sword, _Anaklusmos_.

You find shelves of bagged drachmas, mortal money, jars of nectar, and containers filled with perfectly cut squares of ambrosia. Your eyes rake over the countless daggers and other swords Perseus has along with a shoebox holding his Minotaur horn. Before you leave, you find yourself flipping over a wallet sized photo of Perseus and Athena's daughter—Annabeth was her name?—staring intensely at each other.

You know of their relationship; the boy had refused immortality for her. A year later, neither has been killed, and their bond is still oddly composed of two love-struck teenagers with personalities on opposite ends of a spectrum.

You shut the door abruptly, and a thought crosses your mind: _has Perseus not noticed me yet? _

You distinctly remember seeing the keys to his stepfather—Paul's—Prius. You commend yourself for remembering these mortals' names. Nevertheless, after transporting yourself into the cubby hole that was to pose as Percy's garage, you discovered that his car and other means of transportation are still idling in the dark.

Another door is slightly ajar, and you're interested in what's inside of the room. Maybe Perseus is out on a walk. After all, you're a god, and a mere mortal—no matter how important he is—would take offence at you taking a peek in his room.

You scratch your short beard and continue to walk towards the door. When you approach it, you push the door open, and you don't believe what you're seeing now.

Perseus is draped across his mattress, fully clothed, but sweat soaking his body. You atypically rush over to him, making the mattress to rise a bit so you don't have to hunch over. The boy's complexion matches his walls—pale and fragile. You barely feel him breathing, and when he does, it is small gasps that look extremely painful for him.

Instead of inspecting his room, you place your hand on his torso and transport you both to the throne room of Olympus. You thank Gaea that no one else is occupying the room to see you showing concern over your rival/brother's son.

Perseus's breaths are raspy, and if possible, he grows more pallid and another layer of perspiration begins to form. You instantly make a blanket appear to cover him.

"Apollo!" you say with an unheard urgency in your voice. The sun god appears within the blink of an eye, his smile failing miserably to illuminate the dismal blanket in the room. Apollo's grin drops uncharacteristically as he rushes to your side and stares at the limp and pallid complexion of Poseidon's son.

You exclaim with a furrow in your brow and thunder resonating all around Olympus, "It is Perseus; he is dying."

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><p><strong>What did you think? I'm going to explain why Zeus was at Percy's apartment in the following chapters. I hope this drew you in! :) <strong>

**Thank you so much for reading. **

**Until the next update,**

**_Jia_ :]**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer_: I own nothing.  
>Thank you for taking the time to read this. <strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: <strong>

Your wife is a cold-hearted bitch, and it aggravates you constantly because she is so pompous about it. She walks into the throne room with a sneer etched onto her face, staring at you, Apollo, and Poseidon's cataleptic son.

"Hera," you say with a hint of urgency in your voice, "can you tell Poseidon to come to the throne room immediately? It's his son, Perseus." Your eyes connect with hers and silently plead for her to do as you requested.

"Why should I?" she retorts as she goes to sit down on the seat of her throne. "That brat has benefited me none."

You are momentarily stunned at your wife. You can feel yourself gradually give in to the anger that's seeping into your heart. How dare she have the audacity to defy you? You slowly lift yourself from the cold floor and grow to your full height as a god. Pushing past Apollo in a fit of rage, you hastily make your way over to your wife.

"That _brat_ you're referring to is the savior of Olympus and is currently dying. I don't understand why you're acting this way, Hera. Be reasonable and just do as I say." You attempt to talk to her in a civil manner, keeping your emotions at bay.

You're still perplexed as to why Poseidon's son is bringing out emotions in you that have not shown for over a century. It's wondrous, really, to see the all-powerful king of the gods, Zeus, suddenly fawning over a teenage boy that is not his son.

Hera promptly crosses her leg over the other and grips the arms of her chair roughly. Her eyes rake over you then gaze father back to watch Apollo working his magic to save Perseus. Your head snaps behind you as you watch Apollo hastily murmur spells and incantations to save Perseus from heading to Hades 'domain. You know that you would never forgive yourself if such a thing were to happen.

"You have more concerning matters to attend to, my lord!" Hera cries out, eyes ablaze. "Why should such an insignificant mortal make you stray from your duties? It matters not if he dies," she ended as she leant back against her throne.

You feel yourself involuntarily lose control. Electricity surges around your enormous body, and your electric blue eyes darken to a stormy grey. "Like you said—" Your voice resonates with power all around the throne room. "I am king of the gods, and you will do as I say. This is the last time I will say it: go and retrieve Poseidon," you spat at your wife.

"And I am queen!" she exclaims, standing up and growing in magnitude to match Zeus.

Resisting the urge to roughly lay your hand upon her cheek, you sharply turn around and head back to Perseus and Apollo. _The miserable bitch_, you think to yourself. You can't help but have cross thoughts about her. _Why would I marry such a selfish and disobedient wretch?_

With your back turned to her, you say almost inaudibly, "And I will denounce your status as queen as the gods if you don't do as I say this instant." With a simple flick of your extraordinary-in-size hand, Hera is gone. To where, you're unsure of, but you thank Gaea that your wife is gone from your presence.

You come upon the duo of god and demigod, and stare at them. At the sight of Perseus, your anger at your wife promptly dissipates.

You watch, helplessly, as Apollo injects Perseus with ambrosia, and, instantly, the teenager's breathing becomes less erratic and more stable. There is a tranquil and subtle rising and falling of his chest that hadn't been there momentarily ago. You see that Perseus is no longer as pallid as he had once been, and his natural tan melanin is beginning to surface again. You also take notice that that sheen or perspiration that covered Poseidon's son's forehead is gone although the sweat that thoroughly soaked the rest of his body still remains.

Overall, you wouldn't hesitate to say that Perseus looks immensely better.

You come up to Apollo and lay your hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for your assistance. You may go now," you say as your other hand lightly claps him between his shoulder blades.

"But—but—" he tries to say with a pleading sparkle in his eyes, "there's still more I can do for him!"

"Ah, calm down. I shall take it from here, Apollo. Once again, thank you." Just like you had done for Hera, you make a subtle motion with your hand, and Apollo is no longer in the throne room. This time, you know of his whereabouts; you sent him to his palace.

You direct your attention at Perseus and a smile forms itself on your face. "I shall save you, nephew," you whisper aloud.

You take your hands and place them on Perseus's chest and let loose enough volts of electricity mixed with ancient magic into his body to repair his internal injuries. The boy's body flops on the cot Apollo had conjured for him. You remove your hands, anxious to see if he will awaken.

Perseus begins to slightly fidget, moaning almost inaudibly. His eyelids slothfully lift themselves to reveal a pair of vibrant yet weary sea green eyes—matching Poseidon's exactly—that rotate around the room and finally settling on you.

You quickly wipe the smile off of your face and face Perseus with an emotionless face. Quietly, you say, "Welcome back, Perseus."

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><p><strong><em>Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed, favorite(d), subscribed, and added me to their favorite authors. That really means a lot to me. I take so much pride in the fact that you all like something that I had created. This was the best response I have ever gotten for a story. My mind is blown. So, thank you so much. I mean that so sincerely. <em>**

_**I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter, we get Percy's point of view to see how he is taking all of this.**_

**_REVIEW RESPONSES:_**

**Riley Coyote**- Percy didn't try killing himself; more like, putting his mind in a comatose state. He didn't want to die; he just wanted to not fade into the scenery of life. His goal was to have his body put on life support or something of that measure, but his mind inactive. Thank you so much for taking the time to review! I think you should write the story you planned to! I would love to read it. :)

**gerson-2 lazy 2 log in**- Thank you very much! :) I hope that you enjoy this chapter.

**So True**- I felt that slash would be too…forced. Plus, I'm not exactly comfortable writing slash, and I don't think I would do a fictional story of that caliber any justice. Thank you so much for reviewing! I appreciate it! I'm psyched that you're interested in reading this! :D

**Alice**- I'm only writing second person narrative for Zeus. When I start to do Percy's point of view for chapters (which will be a considerable amount of the story), then it will be first person. Thank you so much for taking the time to review.

**IFoundAPickle**- Haha! Which part are you interested in knowing? Hmmm…maybe I'll drag it out. I'm just kidding! I hate dragging plots out. Percy will wake up soon, and then the real plot will begin. I enjoy your enthusiasm. Thank you so much!

**Muse of the Olympians**- I hope that you are satisfied with this chapter. Thanks for taking the time to leave me a review!

**KairacahraFlower Goddess**- Your enthusiasm was personified. I loved it! It made me smile so much. Thank you so much! I'm definitely going to keep going!


	3. Chapter 3

**_PERCY'S POINT OF VIEW (second person) THIS CHAPTER!_ :)**

**I'm a loser, I know. Thank you all for the positive messages, urging me to update.**

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><p><strong>Percy:<strong>

You feel your heart palpitate almost rhythmically inside of your chest. No longer are your breaths sporadic and labored, but, instead, they are legato and full. The air, as enchanting as it was, stung your lungs, but your body greedily gulped it in. There's no immense pressure on your chest anymore, and the burning sensation in your throat has mysteriously dissipated. You're head no longer aches, and you feel just _fine_, and it feels wonderful.

_I shouldn't be enjoying this_, you think crossly. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you visually absorb your surroundings. _I shouldn't be seeing this._

Zeus, in all of his grandeur glory, stands before you, smiling down at you wearily. His hand is awkwardly placed atop your chest, adding an uncomfortable pressure.

"Lord Zeus," you mutter almost inaudibly with a slight strain to your voice, but the god still manages to hear you.

"Ah, Perseus, I'm glad that you've finally decided to awaken. It's about time." He quickly removes his hand as if you had delivered an electric shock with him on the receiving end. You take notice, that for the first time in five years, the god is being civil towards you.

His cobalt eyes meet your sea green irises, and, unknown to you, anger manages to surge throughout your soul. You attempt to sit up on the cot, struggling because your arms refuse to lift the weight of your upper torso. The god's endeavor to assist you in your struggle, leads you to rudely pull away from him. It takes several moments before you are fully sitting up and facing your savior.

"I hope Chaos decides to send your godly ass to Tartarus," you snarl at him as your eyes glower at the now sullen god. "You decide to care _now_? And for what reason, huh?"

Zeus opens his mouth to respond to you, but your mouth acts before you can think about what you're doing.

"Don't even bother answering that," you scoff angrily. "What I really want to know is, why, in the name of _Hades_, would you even come to my apartment anyway? I don't get you, Zeus. One minute, you're voting for my demise, the next, you're supposedly saving me when I'm doing what _I_ want with _my_ life?"

You let loose a stark laugh and forcefully shove your fingers through your hair. "You don't run my life," you say to the bewildered god. Your tone towards him is no longer permeated with exasperation and resentment but is defeated and weary. "Heck, you're not even my father, and you're trying to control me. Listen, I couldn't care if you were king of the world. I'm not bowing down to you, Zeus."

Volts of electricity cackle around Zeus's large frame, rapidly growing in strength. "You get upset at me because I saved you from committing suicide?" Zeus questions rhetorically. He subconsciously takes a step towards you, his eyes glowing with manifested supremacy.

"I didn't want to die!" you exclaim, shooting to your feet. The tone of your voice is low and threatening towards the god, uncharacteristically of you. "You weren't there when I was going through it. You didn't know my intentions, or what I wanted to happen, so you have absolutely no right to tell me how to live my life."

Zeus makes to retort to your ill manners, but the throne room abruptly fills with a rapid succession of light that lasts a matter of seconds. A pleasant odor, resembling a breeze carrying the ocean's scent, fills the room, and you cringe outwardly, instantly recognizing who it is.

"Well, I'll be," Zeus mutters as his eyes switch to amusement, "the egoistical wretch actually listened to me."

Despite your resentment towards him, you chuckle half-heartedly, knowing who he is referring to. You return your face to its mask of carelessness and turn to face the new addition to the room: your father, Poseidon.

His appearance is one of a young man with a body fit beyond average, vivacity coursing through his turquoise irises, a thick mop of ebony black hair atop his head similar to yours, and brilliant white teeth arranged in his mouth perfectly. Your father's body is fit with his traditional Greek armor, and his trident is in a sheath by a belt attached to his waist. It's awkward for you that your father looks closer to your age while Zeus looks akin to a middle aged man.

"Dad," you say curtly with a nod of your head. Your tone is stiff and too formal for you. The limp hair remains suctioned to your forehead.

"Zeus," your father greets rather dryly with an emotionless face. It instantly brightens as his gaze travels over to you. "Percy, my boy! How are you? What are you doing here alone with _him_?" Your father's expression twitches with his reference to Zeus.

"Your _boy_," Zeus mocks, "was doing just fine, of course. Almost dead on his bed alone in his apartment, and now he's ungrateful for my help when I saved him. So, to answer your question, _dear brother_, your son is perfectly content."

Your father's bronzed face manages to lose a few shades of color which is considerably pale for the sea god. His eyes meet yours and at the same time, concern and disappointment travels from him to you.

"Percy—you, you tried to kill yourself? My gods, why?" Melancholy envelops his face, and his eyes hastily lose their enthusiasm. Instead of looking like a father attempting to figure his son out and help him, it looks like a young man pleading for an answer out of an acquaintance of his.

Tears gather themselves in your eyes, and you despise how it makes you look weak in front of two of the most powerful gods. Your forearm swipes itself across your eyes to wipe the few tears that managed to escape and fall down your cheeks. Your cheeks flush from emotional torment and embarrassment from crying in front of Poseidon and Zeus. You lower yourself onto the cot and bow your head, letting the tears that remain to be held back plummet to the marble floor.

"My mother left me, Dad," you say faintly as your speech threatens to rupture.

Your father crouches down so he can stare into your face. "Percy, what do you mean she left? Where did she go?" His voice has taken a desperate edge, fearing the worst.

"She's with Hades; she's dead."

As soon as the words leave your lips, you break down into uncontrollable sobs. Your father raises himself up to embrace you in his arms, and you lock yours around his torso. Tears create an effusion and flood down your cheeks and onto your father's armor. Poseidon gently runs his calloused hands over your back, and for the first time in centuries, a god cries over the death of a mortal.

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><p><strong>My gods, words cannot describe how sorry I am for this horribly long delay for this chapter. I am so sorry. <strong>

**I really hope that you all enjoyed this chapter. I'm sorry if it seems like it's lacking. This summer hasn't been the easiest for me, but that's no excuse. **

**Thank you all SO MUCH for taking the time to read, review, favorite, and/or alert. I'm completely outdone with the response I've gotten for this story. **

**Just...thank you. I know I keep saying it, but I'm so grateful for you all. **

_**- Jia Marie**_


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologize for the long delay. GAH! I'm so grateful for each and every review, favorite, alert, and even those who are silent readers. Thank you so much! **

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><p><strong>Chapter Four:<strong>

If possible, you blanch as your fingers unconsciously tug at your beard. Fighting off a tremble in your voice, you mutter with a nonplussed tone, "Your mother—Sally—is she truly dead?"

Perseus solemnly nods his head while his shoulders and back abruptly hunch over drastically. "I saw her, Zeus," the boy responds in a dejected manner.

You watch as Poseidon releases his grip on his son's shoulders and lowers himself to meet his spawn's vacant gaze.

"Percy, what do you mean, you 'saw her'?" you question further, mentally daring yourself to conjure the grotesque images of his inanimate mother. Your eyes squint themselves in a fruitless attempt to block the images. "What all did you see?"

Poseidon's large and calloused hand rests itself upon Perseus's thigh. Your attention spans to the father and son before you as you scrutinize the duo, watching as your brother's cerulean eyes shine with a painful sense of longing while he firmly grips Perseus's calf.

"Please, Perseus," Poseidon pleads with him. Never before had you heard your pseudo-belligerent brother sound so desperate. His broad frame is tense from the building apprehension. The enormous throne room had never seemed so minute. Poseidon continued his plea. "Son, please, just let me know."

It makes you feel slightly uncomfortable, but you make yourself known once more and intrude on their moment. "Ah, Perseus, if you would rather not share with us the details verbally, I have a way of getting the memories out without making you relive them…if that is alright with you, that is," you propose rather generously.

Perseus shifts on the cot slightly before glancing up at you. His body visibly deflated as he bit his lip while contemplating his decision.

Poseidon urges Perseus with a nimble pat on the back and his hand gently ruffling the dark and moist hair atop his son's head.

You spare the sea god a cursory glance before bringing your attention back to Perseus and his decision. "Well?"

With his head cast down once more, he mutters, "Fine."

The simplicity of the answer releases a diminutive sense of euphoria within you. The possibility of being able to understand the reason why Perseus's soul was vindictively vanquished excites you.

You smother the growing grin on your face before answering Percy. "In that case, my boy," you glance at Poseidon's heated gaze as you make that reference to Percy, "all that is required from you is your presence. You are not obligated to bring the memory out of your subconscious seeing as I will find it.

"Will it hurt?" Percy inquires, his voice breaking from its recent use. You stare at his wiry frame and the anxiousness present on his features. It provokes a sadness within you that the hero of Olympus was afraid of a mere memory.

"I swear on the Styx that it will not. You have my word, boy." His sea-green eyes roam around his head, waiting for the clap of thunder that usually accompanied the swear. While he is occupied anticipating what is to never come, you seize your chance and place your monstrous hand on his forehead.

Simultaneously, his eyes roll to the back of his head and shut themselves while his body goes slack.

Immediately, Perseus's memory infiltrates your mind:

_Perseus's once thick nest of dark hair was now plastered to his forehead while a layer of perspiration covered his body. The lean muscles in his arms quivered as he lowered himself into the leather recliner while he fruitlessly attempted to sort the overwhelming collage of thoughts that were at the surface of his mind. With his eyes clouded over in intense concentration, he subconsciously let out a steady flow of small gasps. His hands groped for something solid—something real unlike this hellish nightmare—to hold onto. The leather suctioned the exposed flesh on the back of his arms, the cold material losing its previous shape to the contours of his body. _

_Dryly, he stared down in horror at his mother's nude and bruised body. Her once lengthy hair was choppily cut and surrounded her body. Her shins contained spontaneously made incisions, some's depth venturing to show the bones in her leg. Perseus's released a shuddering sob at the corpse of his mother spewed on the floor. _

Wanting to see no more, you remove your hand from Percy's head as if it were he who shocked you with volts of electricity.

Taking notice of your singular wording of the term, you say aloud, "My God, Perseus."

Uncharacteristically of you, you precipitously envelop him in an embrace, and he grips your back tightly, all the while muttering, "It should have been me, damn it. I should have died…not my mother."

You release him from your hold, and you stare at him. Mustering up enough force to get your voice firm, you say, "You will _never_ say that again, do you understand? I regret that it was your mother, Perseus, but it was what the Fates had in store. It was inevitable; you and I are both aware of that.

"She died, but all I can thank Gaia for is that it wasn't you who died that day."

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><p><strong>We're taking a dive deeper into the story! Zeus and Percy are growing closer (NOT slash), and we're seeing what Percy saw. <strong>

**_THERE ARE STILL QUESTIONS TO BE ANSWERED! Who or what killed Percy's mother, and for what reason? _**

**Once again, thank you for all of the positive feedback! :) I appreciate it so much! **

**Until next chapter,  
><strong>**-**_Jia _


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: _I feel as if it's too late to say this, but there is no specific time other than after the series. There is no Heroes of Olympus, nor will there be any mention of the characters involved in that series. The battle/war that I referenced to has nothing to do with Gaia, but rather other Titans wanting to strike back. That is insignificant seeing as it will not be the driving plot for the story. _**

**I sincerely thank every single person who has reviewed, favorite(d), put me on their alerts, and read the story. :) **

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><p><strong>Chapter Five. [Percy]<strong>

**-.-.-.-.-**

It was an audio claustrophobia. The sounds of the faltering of footsteps on the marble floor, the giant fan slothfully oozing air into the throne room, the stuttering of the disbelieving—the sounds clog your ears to the point of it being overwhelming. It was like a person who could read minds selectively suddenly gaining access to every human's thoughts. It was a train-wreck you couldn't halt.

A multitude of people flash in and out of the vast room, pausing for mere seconds to relay messages to either Poseidon or Zeus, and then continuing on their way. You don't miss your father's furtive glances at the women's hefty chests that stretch the godly fabric they are contained in. A voluptuous goddess saunters her way over to your father. His eyes glint mischievously, probing the approaching woman with an unconcealed lust.

When she reaches him, your father alters his appearance to his late twenties to accord with the goddess at his side. You watch, repulsed at your father's openness towards other women, as she slothfully drags her fingers up the center of his spine and blithely tickle the nape of his neck.

"Just…stop," you say, abruptly ending your father and his current acquaintance's—some minor god you don't have the pleasure of recalling—conversation. Your jaw clenches in a futile attempt to suppress the anxiousness that invades your body. Your fists fold themselves inward, your rigid nails leaving half-moon incisions on your palms.

Despite it being the middle of July, your usual tan melanin is pallid from the sleepless nights and relentless worrying over the upcoming war that is soon to be approaching in just a few weeks. Tiredness evades your body, draining every ounce of reserved energy that you once possessed. _**Anaklusmos**_ weighs heavily in your pocket.

"Percy, is anything the matter?" your father offers rather nonchalantly. His large hand lay resting atop the goddess's hand, petite and delicate hand. You take care to notice that the goddess does not resemble Amphitrite or your mother—of which the latter option is _nearly_ impossible to make physical contact. His eyes bore into your fatigued ones. "Are you feeling alright?" The chipper tone that accompanied his innocent inquiry grates on your nerves.

"I'm just fine, _sir_," you respond with your teeth clenched and your eyebrows furrowed in irritation. Each word is articulated as your body tenses itself while your father approaches closer than you would like.

"My boy," he chortles halfheartedly, "—I only care for your wellbeing; I only ask out of concern. I suggest you do not take that tone with me next time I inquire something from you." Your father's eyes no longer hold the slither of concern that was present only mere moments before the entourage of goddesses came. His hardened features stare down at you mercilessly, silently goading you into bantering back. "Is that clear, Perseus?"

You stiffly nod at your father's tone and wonder, sardonically, if gods were susceptible to diseases such as manic depression.

"Poseidon!" Zeus exclaims in his entire transcendent splendor. "Leave the boy be."

"Brother," your father murmurs in a subdued manner. "I advise you to leave matters pertaining to Perseus and me alone. You have no business being involved in our relationship."

Zeus's body language indicates that he is going to speak up against your father's trifling threat, but the aquatic god simply raises his hand smugly in Zeus's direction, signaling for him to cease all interruption.

"Furthermore, like I voiced to Perseus moments ago, I care for him, and I only have intentions to help benefit him. Nothing more, nothing less, my brother."

"Well, _your son_ isn't in need of your pseudo pity," Zeus states dryly in a monochromatic tone. "I see, undoubtedly, that you have no respect for the boy whatsoever. '_Nothing more, nothing less_?'" Zeus questions rhetorically. His volume, in addition to his temper, rises rapidly. "That alone proves that you bore the boy to replace your last one. You don't care about Percy, brother. I know you don't. Don't you dare lie to this boy's face, and say that you do."

Your father's composure seems to crumble in front of your eyes. You watch as he transforms himself to a more aged man—forty or so years old—to match Zeus's age. "Damn you, Zeus," your father vocally explodes on his younger brother. "You belong in Tartarus for spewing such blasphemy against my name."

"I want you out of my throne room right this instant." You can tell that Zeus is in control of his words and actions, yet the flicker of his eyes betray his sturdy tone, promptly alerting you that he was cognizant that the tone of his demand imitated a child's.

"I will do no such thing. I am not your slave, Zeus. I don't act upon your orders on every whim." Poseidon's blatant disregard to Zeus's request causes an instantaneous reaction from the king of the heavens.

You watch, almost terrified, as his eyes darken considerably, and you feel the room gradually being deprived of oxygen due to his anger. The sky god's childlike deceitful vice had dissipated, leaving a violently perturbed immortal in its place.

It's odd; you're not feeling the effects of Zeus's anger. You notice that he has a hand stretched behind him in your direction. His fingers curl marginally, silently beckoning you to come forth.

"Percy—" you allow a slight grin to plant itself on your face at Zeus's reference to you. _Perseus_ had never been your preferred title. "—please tell _Daddy Dearest_," Zeus sneers at the mention of Poseidon, "that he should listen to what I say. Maybe he will listen to his offspring."

Before you have an opportunity to answer at Zeus's plead, your father abruptly interposes, "My son will not be the one to tell me leave this room, Zeus." His eyes are a darkened swirling mass of cynicism and indignation. "And while you're attempting to persuade my son to join your argument, have you not forgotten how you have treated him at past encounters? Let us not be hypocritical, brother."

"All that matters is that I care for Percy right now, this moment in time, Chaos be my witness." You feel a minor shock of electricity as Zeus places his substantial hand atop your shoulder. "You say you only care for his benefit. You only care about the boy because he is your mortal representation. If he dies, the only thing you will mourn is the fact that you no longer have someone to symbolize your name.

"I truly care for this boy, Poseidon, and I shall not allow you to bring harm to him."

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><p><strong>Poseidon and Zeus had a little altercation, no? :) I thank you for taking the time to read this. I'm sorry that there wasn't much Percy dialogue, but alas, this is the way things were meant to be (Pendragon reference). <strong>

**Would you care to leave a review? Please? Thank you once again.**

**~ Jia :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**_It's been entirely too long! I am apologize profoundly. :( _**

**_I took the opportunity that came from being stuck at home sick to update this! I'm sorry, but it's much shorter than I would have liked, but I felt that it was necessary to not go on any further. _**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 6:<strong>

It's complete and utter disarray inside of your mind. Apprehension swirls in a continuous motion, constantly wreaking havoc on your nerves. Electricity cackles in the atmosphere, matching Zeus's infuriating persona. His hulking anthropomorphic form pulses with wild energy as his eyes flicker between a brilliant cerulean blue and an onyx fit to match the depths of Tartarus.

With a blatant disregard to your father, who gazes condescendingly at you, you take several minute, cautious steps towards the king of the gods. You are about to lay your hand upon Zeus's trembling shoulder, but four words make you cease your action in motion:

"Don't do it, Perseus." His voice is irritatingly deep and powerful, and the slight hint of a threat resonates within it.

You do stop, momentarily, to turn your frame around to rake your eyes over your father's. Poseidon's arms are crossed tightly over his golden chest plate, and his entire body screams rigidness. His gaze is steady and somewhat nerve-wracking, but you don't pay it any heed. You are weary of your father's constant use of you just for his sake of having a demigod representative.

"Come to me now, Perseus," your father barks at you like he would to a dog. Subconsciously, something wants you to resist his commands, but logic tells you that the consequences for not obeying would be much worse than whatever you could anticipate. Your father, Poseidon, was a stranger now; you could no longer predict his actions.

Your feet lazily shuffle towards your imposing father as he makes no attempts to meet you.

"You are _my_ offspring, and I will not tolerate your disrespect towards me anymore, Perseus. Do you understand?"

You make no attempt to change your facial expression. A blank stare meets your father's enraged appearance. "No," you respond carelessly.

You reach into your pocket and grab a rather timeworn appearing ballpoint pen. Extracting it from your pocket, you bend down and gently place the pen at your father's feet. The pen deserves more respect than your father ever will, you bitterly reflect.

"I'm not your property," you mutter aloud as you turn around once more."Thanks for everything, _dad_." You sneer his name with sarcasm and utter disdain. As you begin to walk away from him—symbolic for much more than you could ever hope for—you feel a smug sense of pride inhabit itself inside of your consciousness.

It feels good, you deliberate.

You feel your father staring at you from behind, and as you start to walk in the direction of Zeus, your conscience subtly tells you to turn around. You do so. His callous gaze pierces you, and for a fleeting moment, you feel as if you are drowning. Never before have you experienced something as intruding and frightening, and the fact that it comes from your father makes it all the more terrifying for you. Dropping to your knees, you clench your eyes tightly, hoping—by some means—that this is all some hallucination.

Your hair is precariously tickling the nape of your neck, and you feel tempted to violently chop your strands off. Unfortunately, you're too preoccupied attempting to battle whatever incantation your father has placed on you. His face suddenly appears over yours, and you stare into his corbeau eyes that are filled with unsheathed resentment and disdain.

_He hates me,_ you admit to yourself. _My father hates me. _

You want Zeus to revert back to his uncaring, nonchalant nature when it came to you. You want your father to return back to when he actually cared about your wellbeing. You want time to go backwards.

You wish that you had never attempted to place yourself inside of some warped indeterminate state. You want so much, but you know that it will never happen for you.

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